


disguise self

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: me sobbing about critical role [12]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Body Dysphoria, Drabble, Gen, Mirrors, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: nott learns disguise self





	disguise self

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this post from cellobotomy on tumblr: (https://cellobotomy.tumblr.com/post/182714905011/hey-can-someone-please-break-my-heart-with-a-fic)  
> edited 2/26/19

She finally casts the spell in the late afternoon. They’d spent all day in their tiny room at the inn, Caleb guiding her hand through the correct gestures, teaching her the arcane words. Over and over she’d practiced, as Frumpkin watched from the windowsill. When she finally achieves it, turning herself into a slightly shorter version of Caleb, they both shout with joy,  and he gives her a quick half-hug. Soon after, they both go to bed, knowing they need to get a head start if they want to reach the next town in time.

She lays quietly on the end of the bed, curled into a little ball. She waits until she’s sure that Caleb’s asleep, until she can hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, before she uncurls and hops down from the bed. She pads over to the corner of the room, where a shabby looking, partially cracked mirror is leaning against the wall. She casts the spell, whispering the arcane words that leave an odd taste in her mouth after she says them, like the air after it rains.

She watches, in the mirror, as her skin changes from green to a soft brown. As her flat, greasy hair turns into a pair of fluffy braids, held together with leather cords. Her four claws are replaced with five calloused digits, hands that are covered in familiar scars from working around town. Her eyes, instead of large and bright and yellow, are softer, smaller, and a warm hazel color. The freckles that dot her cheeks are dark brown, instead of forest green, and the nose-ring she wears is a simple silver instead of gold.

She doesn’t cry. Instead, she sits down, eyes never leaving the image in front of her. She ignores her shaking hands, and stares, committing the image to memory. She stays there, as still and unmoving as a statue, except for her shaking hands. After an hour, the spell wears off. She gets up, and turns the mirror around. Her hands are still shaking, and she nearly drops it, cursing quietly. She climbs back into bed, careful not to disrupt Caleb, and pulls her knees up to her chest. She wraps her arms around them, and digs her claws into her calves. Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, and she stays this way for the rest of the night.

  

**Author's Note:**

> poor caleb doesnt have a clue


End file.
